


To A Flame

by Fyre



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Pre-Fall (Good Omens), The Fall (Good Omens), Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27080683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: There was a time Before.I mean obviously, there was a time before, what with time being linear and everything. But this was the big Before. This was when we were still in the Choirs Upstairs. Hell of a view from up there. No, wait. Heaven of a view.Here’s the thing though: if you don’t know the danger, how do you know when you’re getting close to the edge?
Relationships: Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens)/Disposable Demon (Good Omens)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 44





	To A Flame

There was a time Before.

I mean obviously, there was a time before, what with time being linear and everything. But this was the big Before. This was when we were still in the Choirs Upstairs. Hell of a view from up there. No, wait. Heaven of a view.

Here’s the thing though: if you don’t know the danger, how do you know when you’re getting close to the edge?

We didn’t know it was an option, did we? Didn’t even know it could happen until whoops, there we go, dropping from the sky like chunky rain.

We ended up below, in the dark and the cold and the burning.

Always strange, though, was how much he still shone. Even in the black and dripping and stinking dark, we found him. Flocking to his light, like he could make it better. Like he hadn’t set us all on this road to start with.

Him. The Big Kahuna. The Chief.

We weren’t important up there. Not like him. Morningstar, Lightbringer, the Archangel who stood at the Almighty’s right hand. We were just backing vocals. He was the soloist and when he stepped up, everyone else shut up.

Funny how things turn out.

Sometimes, we heard him sing and sometimes, we crept close to listen. And once, one of us dared to sing along with him. One of us was bound to eventually, the rise and fall of his voice almost as beautiful as he was.

He really did shine, you know.

Upstairs it was dazzling, eyes of sunfire, hair of gold, warm and bright and welcoming.

He heard us and we tried to hide in one. Easier that way, small and insignificant. And then he smiled. We would’ve been all right if he’d been like the other archangels, but he _smiled_ at us.

“Let me hear you,” he said in the voice like golden trumpets.

When we sang, he joined with _us_.

We loved him then. Loved him for seeing us. Loved him for listening. Yeah, technically we loved everyone. We were angels. It was what we were made for, but don’t think it’ll surprise anyone to find out we loved him a little bit more than the rest.

He talked with us sometimes. Sometimes in one. Sometimes all of us.

He spoke of the plans and this new thing the Proper Boss was working on. Earth he called it. A passing fancy. Some new distraction, now the cosmos was complete and She needed something to do. It sounded fun. Something to play with. But we couldn’t tell him that, not when he sighed and rolled his eyes and stroked our hair.

He had lots of friends, our star. Like the glowy ball near Her new Earth, people were drawn into his orbit. He had good words, clever words, and warm smiles for everyone. He spoke, but he also listened. And on the best of days, sometimes, he sang with us.

Once, just once, we joined.

It should have– it _was_ forbidden.

Low-rankers like us should never have been anywhere near him, as high and golden as he was. But he saw us all as one – all Her beloved creatures. His form’s stardust flesh was smooth and pale as marble under our hands. All of us. He welcomed us not in one, but in all, drinking in our breath, allowing our touches and touching in turn.

We should’ve realised then. It was when things were turning. He was unhappy and frustrated and we didn’t stop to think about why he stopped our questions with his lips, too caught up in our joining, basking in the glow of him, forgetting to ask why why why he was burning under our hands.

His warmth changed so quickly after that. No longer safe and comforting, it grew hotter and hotter. And we still came when he called, because why wouldn’t we? He was the Lightbringer and he loved us and we loved him.

Course, then things went properly tits up.

Turned out the Almighty’s special project bothered him even more than he’d let on. She’d made new things, small and frail and – he spat his fury – beloved above all. Sounded daft to us, really. She loved everything. Always had. Mind you, looking back, if we loved him a bit more than we should’ve, was it possible that She could do the same? We didn’t think so, then.

But he was angry, our star. He was angry and hurting and we wanted to help him. Lots of people did. He had so many friends. Some of them were hurting like him. We didn’t really understand why, but then we’ve always had each other even if we’re not like them.

Never expected them to haul us all into the armoury and shove swords in our hands. We… might’ve panicked a bit then, going into one and dropping the swords like flies. His other friends shouted which just made us close tighter into one, but he found us, our star. He cupped our face and stroked our cheeks and told us we would be treated like rubbish compared to Her new pets.

Next thing we knew, we were in a battle and people were screaming and we had a sword.

And then, boom. Like… some big booming thing, the sky split under us and we weren’t what we had always been anymore.

So, yeah. That was a thing.

Our star was with us below. Everyone was hurt and sobbing and lost. We stayed as one for a long time, safer that way, picking through the bodies of the other Fallen. Our robes had gone ragged, turned holey instead of holy. Followed his light, like we always had.

It wasn’t bright in the same way anymore, not soft and warm and gentle.

It burned. Burned like the sulphur flames, hot and poisonous and it hurt.

“Ah,” he said, face not even the same, all twisted and distorted. “You’re here too.”

“Course,” we said, because where else would we be but beside him?

He took our face in his hands again and it _hurt_. “You love me still.”

It didn’t sound like a question, but we think it was. We think he was as scared and lost as the rest of us, but we couldn’t ask and he’d never say it. Couldn’t, could he? Not when he was the one who’d brung us all low like this.

“You love me still,” he repeated, all teeth and claws and pain.

We might’ve said something but the flames were eating us up, swallowing us whole.

Took us a long time to put ourselves together again that first time. This was something new. Discorporation they called it. He burned us to a cinder but only our shell. Could get new ones, but it took a while and no one gave a monkey’s about us. We’d been low down the pecking order upstairs. Now, we were even lower still.

Probably should’ve stayed out of his way after that. He wasn’t the same. Not anymore. But we went back time and time again. After all, he was our star and we’d always come back to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Was chatting with a few folk about the moth/bunny discourse about Eric, the disposable demon. Normally, I'm of the Bunny persuasion, but then it hit me that he followed the Lightbringer. Moth to a lightbulb! :D

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] To A Flame](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27205046) by [Djapchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan)




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